


Nothing Breeds Contempt like Contempt

by littlevibess



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Ruthless Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlevibess/pseuds/littlevibess
Summary: With a fuller understanding of the cause of deviancy, Connor begins to resent his human counterparts for their callous and disregarding behaviour.On an unrelated note, Connor has yet to find a way to pierce through your cautious, unshakable armour.How about killing two birds with one stone?
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 120





	Nothing Breeds Contempt like Contempt

The moment you saw him, you knew: something was wrong with him.

Every expression that passed along his face was void, empty of any emotion. Every word he said, every smile he made, was all an act, a character he was playing.

You were terrified of him.

Every time his eyes locked on you, scrutinising your every movement, you felt as though he could read your thoughts. 

He tried so hard to get closer to you, befriend you, even flirt with you on one occasion. It bothered him that you didn't trust him. He had no way to get inside your head.

That is, until after his third crime scene. 

You guys had just returned to the station from the Eden Club. Connor hadn't said a thing since you'd left. You could tell that something inside him had snapped after he'd shot the Traci. When he'd turned around, he looked... discontent. On the drive back, you caught him glaring at you multiple times through the rearview mirror. As you walked into the station, he spoke quietly, so that only you could hear him.

"Wait 3 minutes, then go to the evidence locker."

Your step faltered just slightly. You went to meet his gaze but he was starting straight ahead. As you both passed through the front gate, he ignored his desk and walked directly into the evidence locker. 

Why does he want you to meet him there? Does he want to talk to you privately? Why? What if he goes crazy and starts threatening you? What if he tries to touch you?

The next three minutes went by agonisingly slow as thoughts raced through your head. You had no idea what he was planning, and that terrified you. When your watch finally made three rounds, you stood, slowly, and stepped towards the evidence locker. You hovered in front of the door for a few seconds, debating going back to your seat, before finally pressing your palm against the scanner. The door opened, and you peeked inside before stepping through it. You saw him immediately, sitting on the password receiver, flipping a coin between his hands. He didn't look up as you closed the door behind you, standing close by in case you needed to make a run for it. After an unbearable period of silence, he finally stashed his coin and looked up at you. 

You couldn't read his expressionless face. There was nothing _to_ read. He kept it frighteningly empty as he pushed himself off the receiver and slowly stalked toward you, like a panther walking up on it's prey. You were paralysed with fear. When he finally reached you, he spoke softly, but firmly, analysing your face with every word.

"Y'know... I realised something. Every time these androids attack someone, it's in self defense. They wouldn't have to deviate if humans treated them with the respect they deserve. Doesn't that seem unfair? We're punishing them for doing what they need to do to survive. Shouldn't we be punishing the humans who made them that way?"

He took a step forward, and you had no choice but to take a step back, lest you be trampled by him. In seconds, your back hit the door, which he swiftly locked before you even thought to run through it. His arms caged you in, making escape nearly impossible. Your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, leaning down to whisper in it. 

"Somebody should have to answer to the crimes of those filthy humans. Someone should have to suffer for them."

His fingers trailed down the side of your neck, through the dip in your collarbone, before suddenly squeezing around your neck. Your eyes widened in panic as your air supply was cut off. What was he doing? You should have run while you had the chance, you never should have let him get you alone. His expression never changed, the same cool indifference he always wore when he thought no one was looking. You gripped his wrist with both hands, tugging wildly, but he didn't budge, only smirked at your futile efforts.

"We're so much stronger than you. Faster. Smarter. So why do you petty humans think it okay to bully us? It's silly, really."

Your vision was dotting quickly. You tried to beg for him to stop, have mercy, but your lips only gaped like a fish out of water. So you pleaded with your eyes, hoping he would take pity on you. He seemed amused by you, smirking cockily, but rewarded your efforts with the loosening of his grip. Your gasps were rapid and and choked, coughing desperately as your rattled lungs sucked in air. He chuckled dryly, one hand still firm around your neck as he his other one began unbuttoning your blouse. Wait, what? 

"Connor, stop, ple-"

"Shut up."

His eyes bored into yours, and for the first time you saw real emotion in them. Resentment. Indignation. Fire raged behind those beautiful brown globes, and you wished right then that you had stayed ignorant to it, still thinking him to be an emotionless machine.

His hand continued down your blouse, taking his time with each button. You dared not make a sound, for fear of what his backlash might bring. Your breaths were shallow as you stayed as still as possible. You squeezed your eyes shut as your shirt fell from your shoulders, dropping to the floor.

"Look at me."

But you couldn't, you felt like you were hyperventilating. Your breathing quickened as you fists clenched and unclenched, trying desperately to ground yourself to something.

The slap was unexpected. It startled you out of your trance as you held your stinging cheek, staring up at him in shock. He was scowling, a face you'd never seen him wear before and hoped you'd never see again.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do I make myself clear?"

You nodded quickly, officially terrified of this new, foreign side of him. He stared at you for a few seconds, reading your face, analysing your response, before suddenly grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the room. You yelped in pain as you stumbled after him, falling to the floor halfway across, but he didn't care, just dragged your limp body across the tile until he reached the password receiver. You scrambled to your feet as he pulled you up and bent you over the receiver, slamming your face against the hard glass surface.

There was a frightening pause as you both stilled, his fingers still tangled in your hair. You weren't aware he was moving, slowly, silently, until his fingertips brushed lightly against the back of your thigh. You jumped at the unexpected contact and felt his hand tighten in your hair in response, but when it was clear you had just been startled his grip loosened again. 

Every nerve in your body was on fire as his fingers softly played against your skin, then at the hem of your skirt, lifting it ever so slowly over your hips. His fingertips burned a trail into your sensitive skin that you could feel long after the contact had ceased. You felt the threads that held together your sanity coming undone, loosening with his every touch. Your mind raced, trying to make any sense of the situation you were in, but all you could focus on was his fingers, and the circles they traced on your ass, feather-light and excruciating. Your skin tingled, your breath had all but halted. You almost whimpered when his hand left, leaving your skin sensitive and yearning.

_SMACK!_

You gasped, your body lunging forward from the sudden force. Pain shot through your ass, spreading through your body like electricity. As you tried to comprehend what was happening, you were interrupted by another hit.

_SMACK!_

You gripped the sides of the receiver, trying to ground yourself to anything as your mind spun out of control. Something deep in your core was churning from the pain, but you didn't know what.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Each blow hit harder than the last, drawing pitiful whimpers from your lips. You don't know when you started crying, but the glass against your face was suddenly wet with your tears. The pain rippled through you, searing your skin and gripping your core like a vice. By the time he paused to examine you, you were silently sobbing, shaking like a leaf as the cool air brushed against your burning skin.

It took you a second to figure out why there was cloth grazing your ass. Instinctively you went to stand, to protect your modesty, but a firm hand kept your head in place, rendering you immobile. Should you scream for help? Would anybody hear you? What would Connor do to you if you screamed? Would it be worth it? Your scrambled thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle.

"I knew it would work, but I didn't think it would be THAT effective."

You gasped as his finger trailed the length of your slit. What was he doing? You suddenly realised how wet you were. Why were you wet? You weren't horny, were you? That question was answered when Connor's finger slid into your dripping hole, curling just right to hit your g-spot, and you moaned unabashedly. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't help how _good_ it felt. As he moved in and out of you, you could hear how absurdly soaked you were, giving his finger absolutely no resistance. You found yourself moving your hips in rhythm with his hand, so that it wasn't clear if he was fingering you or if you were riding his fingers. He added another finger and you mewled in delight.

"Listen to you, moaning like a bitch in heat. You love this, don't you? You love being raped, you fucking whore."

You wanted to protest, tell him that you hated this, tell him to let you go. But his fingers were too fast, too rough, too _perfectly_ fucking you, and you couldn't get the words out in between moans. You were getting close, and you hated yourself for it. He yanked your head up, forcing you to look at him as he ruthlessly fingered you.

His eyes were dark with arousal, studying your every feature. His cheeks were flushed with a very faint blue, and you realised he was blushing. Androids can blush? He hit your g-spot again and you moaned loudly, causing him to curse under his breath. You hated how little control you had over your own body, and how much he was enjoying it. He roughly rubbed your clit with his thumb and your mind went blank, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"You will cum for me."

It was a command, not an offer- not that you could have stopped yourself anyways. His long fingers stirred your insides while his thumb ran circles around your clit. You felt the pressure in your core build, like an elastic band being stretched to it's limits- then it snapped, and you mewled loudly as the orgasm rolled through your body in waves. It felt like ecstasy, nobody had ever made you cum this hard before. You were seeing stars. 

You felt your arousal drip down your leg as he removed his fingers. You watched him taste it, the same way he tasted blood samples at a crime scene, and it sent another ripple through your body. He looked at his fingers, then at you, seeming to debate something in his head before he pressed the tips of his fingers against your lips. They parted immediately and you cleaned yourself off his fingers, swirling them around with your tongue. When he decided he was sufficiently clean, he removed his hand from your mouth and let go of your hair. 

You were surprised when you felt him pull your underwear up and your skirt back over your ass. You stayed still, bent over the glass as his shoes clicked over to the door and back. His hands guided you up by your shoulders, lightly draping the blouse over them before he stepped back, observed you, and began meticulously fixing your hair. 

  
Your eyes stayed shut through it all, none of the noises or touches breaking through the thick blanket of exhaustion that draped over your being. You let Connor dress you, fix you up, make you look presentable before you had to face the real world again. His hands felt certain and knowledgeable, as if he knew exactly how to clean you up in this situation. As you let your eyes flutter open slowly, Connor's face came into focus, and you noticed how the anger and betrayal that had flooded his gaze just minutes prior was no more. In its place sat the usual empty, dead indifference that made you shudder every day. He finished straightening out your clothing and, after one final look-over, locked eyes with you, swiftly turned on his heels, and exited the evidence locker.

As you collected your thoughts, never moving from the position Connor has left you in, it suddenly occurred to you that you were still at work. You had sex at work! A fresh wave of panic cleared your haze and you spun around, searching the ceiling. No security cameras in here, thank god. Did anybody hear us? If they had, somebody probably would have come to check on you, and you didn't remember hearing anyone attempt to open the door. As your heartbeat calmed, you glanced at the door Conner had just left from.

  
What _was_ that? Was he trying to scare you? Entice you? Was he angry at you or is this some kind of backhanded flirting? How did _you_ feel? You realised your own emotions were in such a chaotic storm that you could not answer that question, instead pushing it aside to be addressed after you'd had some time to process what had happened. 

Not knowing what else to do, you cautiously stepped out of the evidence locker and back to your desk, keeping your head down the entire time. You could feel Connor's eyes lock onto you the moment you were in his field of vision, his gaze burning into the top of your head.

"There you are!" Hank shouted as you passed by his desk. "We have a lead for tomorrow morning. A group of androids tryin' to ditch town together. Check your email."

"Thanks," you murmured, a little too softly, and hurried to shoot a (hopefully) convincing smile in response to Hank's concerned suspicion. He glanced between you and his computer, ultimately deciding not to press it as you logged into your computer.

You did not know whether to welcome or dread tomorrow, so you chose to ignore it, burying yourself in your work for the rest of the day.


End file.
